


Lonely Heart and Broken Shower

by toyhto



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Getting Together, M/M, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 09:53:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12340353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toyhto/pseuds/toyhto
Summary: A story in which Remus can't sleep, Sirius doesn't get his shower fixed, and there's steam in the air.





	Lonely Heart and Broken Shower

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Sirius Black Fest 2017, Prompt 67.
> 
> Thank you to lovely croatoanmary for betaing this story!

At ten o’clock in the morning, there’s a knock on the door. By then, Remus has slept for three hours. It can’t be his mother because she visited just last weekend, so he gets off the bed and walks to the door. Then he turns back and spends at least twenty seconds looking for a t-shirt that doesn’t have _Cardiff Math Team 1974_ written on it. His glasses are missing, too. There’s another knock, and then another. The knocker is clearly getting impatient.  
  
He opens the door with only one sock on because he couldn’t find the other and also who the hell knocks on his door this early anyway?  
  
_Oh fucking hell._  
  
“Hello,” says the guy at the door. He probably lives next door, but Remus isn’t completely sure because he’s never talked to him. He’s only looked at the guy walking past his door through the keyhole once or twice. Possibly three times. Maybe four, but one happened when he was slightly drunk so that one doesn’t count.  
  
“Hello,” he says and swallows. His voice is oddly squeaky.  
  
“My shower is broken,” the guy says. He doesn’t look unhappy about it. He doesn’t look apologetic either even though he just woke Remus up. “Can I use yours? I have to go to the work and I think I smell of dog.”  
  
“I’ve always loved dogs,” Remus says and then bites his lip. Shit. This is exactly why he doesn’t talk to strangers.  
  
"Really?” the guy asks with two raised eyebrows. Maybe he just noticed Remus’ lack of proper clothing.  
  
“I couldn’t find my socks.”  
  
“Oh,” the guy says and glances at Remus’ feet. “You were still sleeping?”  
  
“Of course not,” Remus says and then sighs, “yes. But it’s only because I got to bed somewhere around seven. I’m not good at sleeping.”  
  
“Well, you can take both socks off if you want to. I just need to borrow your shower.”  
  
“Okay,” Remus says and glances at his own feet and then at the guy, who gives him a broad smile. He freezes. _Fuck._ This is exactly why he doesn’t talk to people, especially not people who look like they never freeze only because someone has a very, very nice smile.  
  
“Thank you,” the guy says and then grabs his hand so fast he doesn’t have time to react. At all. He just stares. The guy shakes his hand and he blinks. “I’m Sirius.”  
  
“Me, too,” he says, “wait, about what?”  
  
“My name,” the guy says. He looks like he’s biting back a grin. “My name is Sirius.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“Yes,” Sirius says, “tell that to my parents. So, where’s your bathroom?”  
  
Remus takes a deep breath. At least he has a t-shirt on. This could go so much worse. “I’ll show you.”  
  
“Thank you,” Sirius says in a perfectly polite tone. He has black hair that has been tied into a tiny messy ponytail, and grey eyes with wrinkles around them, probably from laughing - he looks like he laughs a lot. His eyelashes are weirdly black, and he’s wearing a dark green t-shirt that looks quite worn but in a good way, and actually fits very well, much better than most of Remus’ t-shirts that never seem to really settle on his shoulders. He realises that he’s supposed to show the guy the bathroom.  
  
“Sorry,” he says. His face feels oddly warm.  
  
“No worries,” Sirius says. “So, the bathroom? I wouldn’t mind standing here but I really have to go to work.”  
  
Remus nods and then starts walking. Sirius follows him and doesn’t say anything about the piles of clothes on the sofa, books on the kitchen table or dishes on the floor next to the armchair he always sits in when he tries to write. It’s not like he’s untidy, not really, it’s just that he only cleans the place up when mom is coming over. He stops by the bathroom door and Sirius smiles at him again before pulling the door open and stepping in.  
  
“I won’t be long,” Sirius says and closes the door.  
  
Remus walks to the living room, pushes the clothes to the floor and sits down on the sofa. In the bathroom the water starts running. He tries not to think about how Sirius is probably now pulling off his t-shirt and then his boxers, and _oh shit_ he’s _not_ thinking about that because he’s not actually _lonely_ , he just has less friends than he wishes. And he definitely doesn’t have a crush on his new neighbour, even though the guy has really nice arms and shoulders and a really nice mouth. It’s just that he hasn’t kissed anyone for a long time, probably not since he and Tonks broke up almost two years ago - or has it been three already? He hasn’t kissed anyone in probably three years. That’s why he’s thinking about Sirius’ mouth now that he’s sitting on his own sofa and listening to the guy having a shower in his own bathroom.  
  
When the door opens again, it takes him a few seconds to realise that Sirius is talking to him. He stands up and tries to focus, but Sirius’ hair is wet and clinging into his neck and there’re drops of water on his shoulders and steam in the air and Remus’ towel is wrapped around Sirius’ waist. He blinks. He actually used that towel yesterday.  
  
“I thought you wouldn’t mind,” Sirius says and tucks the towel, and Remus flinches. “I just thought it would be a bit awkward if I came out of there naked and, you know, dripping water onto your floor. I’ll bring my own towel next time.”  
  
“Next time?” Remus asks in an oddly thin voice.  
  
“Well, of course I intend to get my shower fixed,” Sirius says. “Do you mind if I bring your towel back in the evening? I’m kind of late for work already.”  
  
“Not at all,” Remus says. He doesn’t mind. He didn’t have any plans to go out anyway. He might as well sit on the sofa and wait for Sirius to bring his towel back tonight.  
  
“Great,” Sirius says, smiles at him, and walks past him. He smells like Remus’ shampoo. “Thank you. I’ll see you later.”  
  
“Right,” Remus says, and tries to smile in a normal way, but before he can manage it Sirius has walked through the flat with the towel on his waist and his clothes pressed into a tight knot in his arms. The black hairs on Sirius’ legs look a bit curly.  
  
After the door is closed and Sirius’ steps echo through the corridor, Remus realises that his own heart is beating even louder.  
  
  
**  
  
  
It’s not like Remus thinks about it the whole day. He does plenty of other things, too. He cleans up. He washes the dishes. He goes shopping and doesn’t only buy tea, but other things as well. He walks around in his flat and tries to decide if there’s something that’s incredibly embarrassing and should be hidden, but he’s never been too good at telling embarrassing things from cool ones so eventually he gives up. Then he sits in the armchair and tries to write for a couple of hours. When Sirius knocks on the door, Remus has a cup of tea in his hands and is pretending to think about that plot hole in the fifth chapter, when really he’s just staring at the crack on the wall.  
  
“Hi,” Sirius says when Remus opens the door. “I forgot to ask your name.”  
  
“It’s Remus.”  
  
“Really?” Sirius says and raises an eyebrow at him. “I like it. So, can I come in?”  
  
“Yes,” Remus says, even though Sirius has already walked to the living room. It doesn’t look like Sirius has brought the towel. Perhaps it’s for the best if Remus doesn’t mention that. It was an old towel after all, and not very clean.  
  
“You live here alone,” Sirius says and sits in the sofa.  
  
Remus blinks. “What?”  
  
“Sorry,” Sirius says and waves his hand around in a vague gesture. “It’s just that there’s no one else around. And you only had one towel in the bathroom.”  
  
“I could have hidden the other one.”  
  
“Yeah,” Sirius says slowly, “but why?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Remus says and sits down on the pile of books. _Shit._ He should concentrate. This is only about his bathroom, and also, he doesn’t have a crush on the guy. “But yes, I live alone. I’m not seeing anyone.”  
  
“I didn’t ask that,” Sirius says and grins. “Do you have something to drink? I can tell you about my work.”  
  
“Okay,” Remus says and walks to the fridge. “I have water.”  
  
“Water?”  
  
“And tea. Plenty of tea.”  
  
“Not coffee?” Sirius asks. For the first time he sounds a bit shocked.  
  
“I don’t drink it,” Remus says, “I sleep badly as it is.”  
  
“But you know, what if someone comes over who can’t live without coffee?”  
  
“I don’t have -,” Remus begins, then bites his lip. “That hasn’t yet happened.”  
  
“Tea is fine,” Sirius says in a voice that seems to suggest it’s an overstatement. “I’ll take tea.”  
  
“Good,” Remus says. It takes him a few seconds to realise he’s actually making tea for the man who’s sitting on his sofa, in his living room, in his flat, and he has no idea why.  
  
He turns around. Sirius has one elbow leaning against the back of the sofa and he seems oddly pleased.  
  
“What kind of tea do you like?” Remus asks because that at least is something he can talk about.  
  
“I don’t know,” Sirius says. “The normal kind?”  
  
Remus opens his mouth and then closes it again. Maybe it’s for the best if he only stands here, quiet, staring at the kettle and waiting for the water to boil. He was never good with weird social situations, and that’s probably because of growing up in a cottage in the countryside deep in Wales, where there just weren’t many other kids around. He tried to fix it when he was older and came to London for college, but going to the parties and drinking beer and talking about drinking beer with drunk people only gave him a headache.  
  
“I’ve only lived here for two weeks,” Sirius says, when Remus is trying not to remember how he escaped in the middle of one particularly boring party in 1981, or perhaps it was 1982 already. “I should probably be disappointed that the shower is already broken. But I kind of like the flat.”  
  
“Really?” Remus asks the tea kettle.  
  
“Yes,” Sirius says. “And to be honest I kind of wondered who you were. A few times I heard Neil Young through the ceiling, like, in the middle of the night.”  
  
Remus swallows. The water seems to take a lifetime to boil. “Sorry.”  
  
“No, I like it,” Sirius says, “although I prefer _Landing on Water_ and I suppose you’re a _Life_ kind of a guy. I have to admit that _When Your Lonely Heart Breaks_ is a bit too depressing for me.”  
  
“I like it,” Remus says without thinking.  
  
“I know, I can hear you listening to it on repeat,” Sirius says, “and don’t say you’re sorry, I don’t mind. It’s just that once or twice I wondered who you were since you keep listening to sad music at night.”  
  
“I write. That’s why I’m up at night. And that’s why I listen to it.”  
  
“Oh,” Sirius says, “cool. What do you write?”  
  
“You were going to tell me about your day at work.”  
  
“Of course. I was a bit late and my hair was still wet which isn’t a good thing because it’s even messier when it’s wet. But I think the headmaster has a crush on me so it’s fine. We have the first world war going on right now.”  
  
“How do you know she has a crush on you?”  
  
“ _He._ I don’t know, he just keeps smiling at me that way. You know how it is, usually you have kind of a hunch that someone likes you.”  
  
Remus bites his lip. It’s probably true. He thinks he knew Tonks liked him even before she kissed him once when they were finishing their shift at the bookstore. He took a step back and said _you’re too young_ and she said _I’m eighteen_ and he said _I’ve never been with anyone. Well, then,_ Tonks said and winked at him, _this is your chance. I know a nice café around the corner._  
  
“But he’s just really old,” Sirius says, “the headmaster, I mean. His beard is white and all. Not that I’d be looking for something like that anyway.”  
  
Remus nods.  
  
“Sleeping with my boss,” Sirius says and barks a laugh. “Seems like a bad choice.”  
  
“Okay,” Remus says. The water is boiling now and he wishes it weren’t. He can’t think about the tea and this at the same time. Maybe he only imagined what he’s thinking Sirius tried to say. “So, you don’t… you do… you aren’t…”  
  
“I can get off your sofa now if you want me to,” Sirius says. Remus glances at him. He is half sitting and half lying down and both of his feet are on the sofa. “If you mind.”  
  
“I don’t,” Remus says and takes a deep breath. “I don’t _mind._ I’m just not sure what…”  
  
“What to do with me,” Sirius says. “Don’t worry. I’m used to it. I can just leave.”  
  
“No,” Remus says, and besides, it’s a bit difficult to believe that Sirius would leave when he’s kind of lying on Remus’ sofa now. “I’m not sure what you’re saying.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“Not that I don’t… have an _idea,_ but I just don’t…”  
  
“I’m gay.”  
  
Remus nods at the kettle.  
  
“I think I’m going to go now,” Sirius says and stands up. The flat sounds oddly quiet. The water is boiling and Remus is holding a cup in his hands. He tries to set it on the counter but his hands aren’t exactly steady. “I don’t really drink tea anyway.”  
  
_Don’t go_ , Remus thinks. “Okay,” he says.  
  
“But don’t turn the music down. It’s good. And now that I know how you look like I can imagine you sitting here, listening to _When Your Lonely Heart Breaks_ at four in the morning.”  
  
Remus nods and follows him to the door. Sirius already has his hand on the handle. He takes a deep breath that sounds lot like a sigh.  
  
“Not that I’d _imagine_ you,” Sirius says, glancing at him, “like, in any way that’s not… I only meant that it’s nice to know who’s living next door.”  
  
“Yes,” Remus says.  
  
“Good night,” Sirius says, and then goes.  
  
Remus drinks three cups of tea, sitting in the armchair and staring at the sofa that somehow doesn’t look the same as before. Around nine in the evening he takes a nap and then tries to write, but nothing’s happening. After midnight he puts _Life_ on and imagines Sirius on the other side of the wall, probably in the bed because it’s night already and normal people are sleeping. He thinks about Sirius listening to the song echoing through the wall, knowing it’s Remus, and then he spills some tea on the notebook.  
  
  
**  
  
  
There’s a knock on the door at seven o’clock. Remus stands up from the sofa and puts on his best t-shirt. When he opens the door, Sirius is standing there with only a t-shirt and boxers on, his hair messed up and Remus’ towel hanging on his arm.  
  
“Sorry,” Sirius says. “I have an early morning on Thursdays.”  
  
“Don’t worry,” Remus says and steps aside from the doorway.  
  
Sirius narrows his eyes. “You weren’t sleeping.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“I just -,” he begins and takes a deep breath. “I’ll probably sleep for a few hours when you’ve left.”  
  
Sirius watches him a bit too long but passes him without saying anything. Remus spends the next five minutes sitting in the armchair and listening through the wall to the water running down onto the shower floor. Sirius is whistling something that might be _When Your Lonely Heart Breaks,_ out of tune and with a lot of creative input. When Sirius gets out of the bathroom, he has Remus’ towel wrapped around his waist and an apologetic look on his face.  
  
“Keep it,” Remus says. “I have towels.”  
  
“Good,” Sirius says. “It’s good to have towels. I’ll bring it back in the evening.”  
  
“Yeah,” Remus says. “So, are you a history teacher?”  
  
Sirius blinks and tucks wet hair behind his ears. “I thought I told you.”  
  
“You only told me about the first world war and your headmaster.”  
  
“Oh,” Sirius says, watching him somehow more carefully than yesterday. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have mentioned that.”  
  
“It’s fine,” Remus says. “Do you want tea?”  
  
“I don’t really drink tea,” Sirius says slowly. “And I should really go now. But I’ll come back in the evening.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“To bring the towel back.”  
  
“Good,” Remus says and pulls back his shoulders.  
  
“Good,” Sirius says and walks to the door. “So, I’ll see you then.”  
  
“Yes,” Remus says and swallows. “Good luck with the first world war.”  
  
“Thank you. It’s going pretty well.”  
  
“Good.”  
  
“I think we’re going to be done with it before Christmas at least.”  
  
“Good luck with that,” Remus says.  
  
“Thank you,” Sirius says, and walks out of the door.  
  
  
**  
  
  
It’s a rainy day, and Remus feels kind of stupid when he walks back from the shop. His hair is clinging into his forehead and the water is creeping into the neckline of his coat, and his shoes were already wet when he got to the store. He stops beside his own building to catch his breath before climbing the stairs up to his flat. A woman with red hair is walking a black dog across the street and the dog is watching him. He pushes his hands deep into his pockets so that he doesn’t wave at the dog like he used to do when he was a kid in Wales.  
  
Sirius knocks on the door a bit later than yesterday. Remus stops in front of the mirror, but everything seems to be alright: he has a t-shirt and jeans on and there are no weird stains on them, not that he can see any at least, and his hair is at its best, which isn’t much but he can’t really help it. He should probably have it cut. It’s easy to forget about things like that when you’re only at home, trying to write a book that doesn’t care about how your hair looks.  
  
“Hi,” Sirius says.  
  
“Hi,” Remus says, nods and then walks back to the living room. Sirius closes the door and follows him. Sirius’ hair is tied into a ponytail again and he has a t-shirt that looks like it was put on rather quickly.  
  
“I just came back from work,” Sirius says and stops in front of the sofa but doesn’t sit down. “We had a meeting.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
“I thought I’d come over and -,” Sirius stops. “ _Shit._ I forgot your towel.”  
  
“I don’t care about the towel,” Remus says and then bites his lip, but it’s too late anyway. He never knew how to do things like this. Not that he knows that this is that kind of a thing at all. Possibly Sirius actually came over to bring the towel and forgot it. It’s very probable. There’s no any other reason why he might have come. Someone who looks like that and talks like that probably has more than enough friends, and also more than enough…  
  
“Remus,” Sirius says.  
  
“Do you want coffee?”  
  
Sirius frowns. “Coffee? I thought you didn’t drink it.”  
  
“No,” Remus says and walks to the kitchen with rushed steps. “But I bought it. In case someone comes over.”  
  
“But you said you don’t have anyone coming over.”  
  
“I didn’t say that.”  
  
“I thought you did.”  
  
“My mom comes over at least once a month,” Remus says and takes a shaky breath. “I don’t really know how to make coffee.”  
  
“I can do it,” Sirius says and walks to him, and _fucking hell_ he smells good. Remus takes a step back but he can’t get further away because his back is against the table now. He watches Sirius’ fingers as the man takes the kettle and fills it and then unwraps the coffee. When Tonks left he kind of thought it was over for him, even though he’s not sure it ever began in the first place. He loved Tonks just fine, but it never felt like _being in love._ Or maybe he’s just read too many books. But now his heart is beating oddly fast and he doesn’t even know Sirius.  
  
“Do you have a dog?” he asks to distract his own heart.  
  
“What?” Sirius says and glances at him. “Oh. No, but my friend has. Lily. She sometimes brings Padfoot to me for a few days so that she can go out and see people and I can…”  
  
“What?” Remus asks, when it doesn’t look like Sirius is going to continue.  
  
“So that I can have company,” Sirius says and shrugs. “I like dogs. They seem clever.”  
  
“But you have friends.”  
  
“Yes,” Sirius says, watching the kettle, “but everyone has their own life. I suppose it’s what being an adult is like. Lily lives just a few blocks away so she comes over often. James visits once in a while. Peter got a job in Manchester a few years back and I think I last saw him in June.”  
  
“Do they have -,” Remus says and blinks, “- families?”  
  
“No. James and Lily were together when we were younger but they broke up in 1982, I think. Peter has a girlfriend but I’ve never seen her. I think her name is Annie.”  
  
“And you don’t have –“  
  
“No.”  
  
“You don’t have a –“  
  
“Boyfriend,” Sirius says and rubs his nose. “No. I was kind of seeing a few people back in college. But it was a long time ago and after that…”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“But I’m clean,” Sirius says. “In case you wondered.”  
  
“I really didn’t,” Remus says, and wonders if that’s true or not.  
  
“Anyway,” Sirius says, “I took the test a few years ago. And I thought that if I have it, I must have fucking bad luck, like, I wasn’t with that many guys anyway, but I suppose everyone thinks that, and I wish we had _known…_ but anyway, I just wanted to be able to sleep at night, you know. I wanted to know if I ought to be worried. And I don’t.”  
  
“Okay,” Remus says and sits down. It looks like Sirius is taking care of that coffee and in any case, there’s really nothing Remus can do now.  
  
Sirius glances at him. “I don’t have it.”  
  
“Good,” Remus says and nods.  
  
“So,” Sirius says, “you don’t drink coffee.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“I’ll just pour for myself then. Can I take a cup?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Sirius opens the cupboard doors and pushes the mugs aside like he’s looking for a specific one. Remus is definitely not thinking about what it would be like if Sirius _had_ a specific mug in the cupboard, and that in the morning he’d be looking for it wearing nothing but boxers, his hair still messed up, slightly irritated because where the _hell_ is that mug again, and Remus would be sitting in his armchair with a cup of tea in his hands, watching.  
  
“You don’t have a girlfriend,” Sirius says and sits down with the cup of coffee.  
  
Remus blinks and breathes in. “No, I don’t.”  
  
“Ever had one?”  
  
“Yes,” he says and there’s something on Sirius’ face that he’s not going to try to figure out now, “once. She was nice but it wasn’t… I didn’t…”  
  
“You didn’t what?” Sirius asks in a voice that would be suitable for discussing weather.  
  
“I don’t think I fell in love with her,” Remus says, “aren’t you supposed to?”  
  
“I think so,” Sirius says.  
  
“But maybe it wasn’t that she was a woman,” Remus says and then bites his lip, but _fucking hell_ he’s thought about this and never talked with anyone and now Sirius is _right there,_ looking at him like he can take it. “Maybe she was just the wrong person.”  
  
“The wrong person,” Sirius says slowly.  
  
“Yeah,” Remus says and grabs his cup of tea with two hands. “I’m from Wales. There weren’t other kids around where we lived. And I read _The Lord of the Rings_ over and over and I think I kind of had a… a…”  
  
“A what?”  
  
“A thing,” Remus says and swallows. “For Legolas.”  
  
Sirius blinks. “ _Legolas?_ ”  
  
“Yes,” Remus says. His mother probably knew about it. But he was a kid back then and kids don’t know anything, at least not anything about love and sex and whatever there is, because sometimes it feels like adults don’t either. So maybe he and Legolas were just friends.  
  
“You had a thing for _Legolas,_ ” Sirius says, eyeing him, “and not for Aragorn.”  
  
He blinks. “What?”  
  
“I can’t believe it,” Sirius says and takes a long sip of his coffee. “I’ve always thought I look like Aragorn.”  
  
“ _What?_ ”  
  
“Because he has dark hair, doesn’t he, and he’s tall and strong and handsome and all that, and of course he can ride a horse.”  
  
“You can ride a horse?”  
  
“My parents are rich,” Sirius says and grimaces, “like, weirdly rich and old-fashioned. You wouldn’t believe it, and also you won’t get the chance because I’m not going to tell you. But we had a summer place and there were horses.”  
  
“My room at home was so small there wasn’t space for a desk,” Remus says. “I did my homework at the kitchen table. Or sometimes in my bed.”  
  
“I think you should reconsider,” Sirius says, “about Legolas. I think Aragorn would suit you better.”  
  
“I don’t think I’d have a chance,” Remus says in a voice that sounds quite thin.  
  
“You never know before you try,” Sirius says and takes a sip of his coffee. “I have to go soon. Lily’s coming over with the dog.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“But my shower’s still broken and, you know, I can’t smell bad at work.”  
  
“I can’t believe you’d -,” Remus says and then bites at his lip and takes a deep breath. “You can use my shower.”  
  
“If you don’t mind.”  
  
“I don’t,” he says. “I really don’t.”  
  
“Great,” Sirius says and smiles at him.  
  
  
**  
  
  
“Remus?”  
  
Remus blinks. He blinks again. Sirius is standing in the doorway and dripping water onto the floor.  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“I kind of dropped the towel onto the floor,” Sirius says and actually looks sorry about it, “and it’s quite wet now.”  
  
“Oh,” he says and stands up. His legs feel kind of frozen, almost like he’s moving in a jar of jelly. Perhaps that’s because he only fell asleep at six in the morning and then woke up an hour later and began thinking about Sirius and couldn’t fall asleep again.  
  
“Yeah,” Sirius says and takes a step towards Remus, so that Remus can actually see all of him now. He’s hanging the towel in front of his waist in a gesture that looks oddly smooth. “I think you told me you have many towels.”  
  
“I do,” Remus says and clears his throat.  
  
“So,” Sirius says, “perhaps you could get me another one.”  
  
“I have them in the cupboard. In the bathroom.”  
  
“Well,” Sirius says and licks his upper lip, and it’s really quite much but Remus can take it, _he can take it_ , “obviously I can find one for myself then. But since you’re already up and, like, standing right _there_ , perhaps you’d like to give me one. If you’re worried that I’ll pick the wrong towel.”  
  
Remus nods.  
  
“Good,” Sirius says and backs away from the doorway so that Remus can get in. The air is hot and moist and he can’t really look at Sirius now. He goes straight to the cupboard and then he just happens to glance at the mirror. Sirius is standing just behind him, not really holding the towel anymore.  
  
“ _Oh my god_ ,” he says and closes his eyes.  
  
“Sorry,” Sirius says, “sorry, I didn’t –“  
  
“No, I didn’t mean to _peek_ , I just –“  
  
“You were going to give me the towel,” Sirius says, and Remus opens one eye just to find out that Sirius is now again holding the towel right where it used to be, covering the part of him that Remus definitely isn’t thinking about right now. “I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have –“  
  
“You should,” Remus says and swallows. It’s terribly hot in here and he can’t really think, “I mean that of course you _shouldn’t_ but it’s fine, it’s really fine, I don’t mind seeing your… your…”  
  
“My bits.”  
  
“Your bits,” he says and takes a deep breath. “I’m now going to give you this towel and then walk away.”  
  
“Thank you,” Sirius says.  
  
“It’s nothing,” Remus says, holds his breath, turns around and passes the dry towel. Sirius takes it without dropping the one he has covering his... _oh fuck,_ Remus Lupin is twenty-eight years old and he still doesn’t know which word to use, especially not when there’s this impossibly good-looking man standing in his bathroom and he himself is just staring at said man with absolutely no idea where to go from here.  
  
“Perhaps I should get back to that shower,” Sirius says in a quiet voice.  
  
“I’m sorry I got upset,” Remus says more quickly than he can think. “I didn’t mean that I didn’t like your… that I didn’t like seeing you, I just…”  
  
“You got surprised,” Sirius says. It looks like he’s leaning towards Remus.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Because you weren’t expecting me to -” Sirius says and shrugs, “- drop my towel.”  
  
“Definitely not,” Remus says. He sounds a bit breathless.  
  
“But not because you’d be opposed to seeing my…” Sirius says and then clears his throat. “In theory.”  
  
“Of course not,” Remus says, starts backing away and almost slips. “In theory. I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to, you know.”  
  
“I’m happy to hear that,” Sirius says and then his eyes go wide as if he just figured out something.  
  
Remus turns away, walks out of the bathroom and closes the door. Five minutes later he’s still sitting in the armchair, resting his palms into his knees and breathing. Sirius stops in front of him. He’s wrapped in both towels now.  
  
“I don’t think I did that on purpose,” Sirius says.  
  
“It’s fine,” Remus says and glances at him. Maybe he’s not imagining this. Maybe there’s actually something going on between them. Maybe Sirius wanted him not to panic but turn around and kiss him.  
  
“You look -,” Sirius says and narrows his eyes, “- not too good.”  
  
“I know,” Remus says and straightens his back. “Listen. If you _had_ done it on purpose, I wouldn’t mind. I wouldn’t know what that means either but I wouldn’t mind. It’s just… I haven’t really talked about… and I definitely haven’t _done_ anything about…”  
  
“About,” Sirius says slowly.  
  
“You look really nice,” Remus says and waves his hand at the man who’s standing in his living room and he doesn’t know why, or he doesn’t dare to guess because that’s so far over his head. He wouldn’t know what to do. He wouldn’t know how to kiss Sirius. He wouldn’t know how to have sex with Sirius, and he’s not exactly sure if he wants to and he’s absolutely not sure if Sirius wants to, and most of all he doesn’t have a fucking clue what’s going on in here.  
  
“Thank you,” Sirius says after a long silence. “So do you.”  
  
“I really don’t,” Remus says and blinks.  
  
Sirius watches him and then flinches. “ _Shit._ I’m late for work.”  
  
“Is the first world war still going?” Remus asks. His voice sounds squeaky and he feels like he just swallowed his own heart and it got stuck in his throat.  
  
“I can’t remember,” Sirius says and smiles at him but it looks a bit tense. “What’re you doing this evening?”  
  
“Nothing,” he says.  
  
“So you don’t mind if I come over.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“To bring back both of your towels.”  
  
“I don’t care about the towels,” he says. “Sirius?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I’m sorry I’m so bad at this.”  
  
“Bad at what?”  
  
He opens his mouth and then closes it again. Sirius grins at him and then walks past him with steps that seem a bit rushed. _Oh, shit,_ he thinks. But he can’t really forget about that grin.  
  
  
**  
  
  
He thinks about calling his mother. Perhaps he could ask her about that Legolas thing. Or perhaps he’d just tell her that there’s this handsome man living next door who comes every morning to borrow his shower and she’d explain it to him like she used to explain the wind and the waves and the colour of the sky. Then he’d know what to think.  
  
He doesn’t call her. He tries to write but it’s impossible, and then he calls Tonks who doesn’t answer. He doesn’t leave a message and later he sits in the armchair, hands folded in his lap, thinking about how he’d have said in a slightly nervous tone _Tonks, I didn’t know who else to call. I think I’m going to fall in love with a man._ He’s quite certain Tonks would say something nice about it, but well, she was always the brave one.  
  
A little before five he takes a shower and it feels odd, almost like he’s a stranger in his own bathroom. The room fills of steam and he thinks about how he saw Sirius in the mirror. His hands tremble a little. He runs out of hot water but it’s kind of a bit too late to worry about that. His heart is running and his breath is getting rushed.  
  
He sits down onto the floor with his back set against the cold tile wall and places his palm onto his stomach first. He’s not going to think about Sirius, and that’s not because it would be the first time he’d think about a man. It wouldn’t. He’s not going to think about Sirius because it would be weird. Maybe in an hour or two Sirius will knock on his door and he’ll let Sirius in and then he’s definitely not going to remember how he sat on the bathroom floor and had his fingers wrapped around himself as he thought about how Sirius would kneel down onto the floor in front of him, all naked and wet, his hair clinging into his neck, his grey eyes watching Remus who’s now leaning against the wall, because he really can’t go anywhere, not anymore, Sirius is _right here_ and he’s probably going to place his palm on Remus’ face, yes, and then run it downwards until it’s lying on Remus stomach, and Remus is going to breathe so hard that his breaths fill the whole room, and Sirius is just smiling, only smiling, and Remus’ feet slide further away on the wet floor, and Sirius leans closer and takes Remus in his hand.  
  
He keeps his eyes closed the entire time. He’s something like halfway there when there’s a knock on the door.  
  
_Fucking hell._  
  
It takes him impossibly long to get up from the floor and out of the bathroom. Luckily he already chose the clothes earlier, but now he also pulls on a jersey that’s not pretty but covers his waist. When he finally opens the door, his clothes are clinging to his skin that’s still wet, and he can’t really look Sirius in the eyes.  
  
“You were in the shower,” Sirius says and stands in the corridor. “I could come back later –“  
  
“No,” Remus says, “yes. I was. But I was already finished.”  
  
“You don’t look like it,” Sirius says, and there’s absolutely no way he could know what Remus was doing a minute ago, but Remus’ face feels awfully warm anyway. He turns around and walks to the living room and _thank God_ Sirius follows him without asking. He takes a few deep breaths. It’s just about Sirius’ broken shower. It’s just that they’re neighbours. Sirius is going to tell Remus about his day and Remus is going to make him tea.  
  
“I like you,” Sirius says.  
  
“What?” Remus says and tucks at the jumper.  
  
Sirius pushes his hands into his pockets. He doesn’t have either of the borrowed towels with him. Remus’ heart is pounding in his ears and he wants to go to the kitchen and make tea but he can’t really move.  
  
“I thought I might as well say it,” Sirius says, watching him. “You know it anyway.”  
  
“No, I don’t,” he says even though he has no idea why.  
  
“Yes, you do.”  
  
“But I don’t know what to do about it.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Sirius says and takes a step towards him. He takes a step back. “Don’t tell me you don’t like me.”  
  
“Of course I like you,” he says. His voice sounds breathless and Sirius looks rather smug.  
  
“So, kiss me,” Sirius says.  
  
“I’ve had one girlfriend,” Remus says. “And I had sex with her but it really wasn’t… it was very… I just kind of followed her.”  
  
“What the hell are you talking about?”  
  
“I can make you tea,” Remus says and takes a step towards kitchen, but Sirius follows him and he freezes. “We could sit on the sofa and… talk.”  
  
“Sounds fine,” Sirius says, frowning. “Listen. I just like you. You could kiss me if you want. And something else, if you want. But you’re overthinking it. Just let me make coffee and we can sit down and I can tell you not to worry.”  
  
“I kind of knew I had crushes on men,” Remus says, “but I thought I’d never meet anyone who would actually, you know, _like_ me. I think my mom knows. But I never told her. I don’t know how you’re supposed to tell your mother that you like men.”  
  
“I haven’t told mine,” Sirius says and walks past him, close enough that he can smell Sirius. He watches as Sirius takes the kettle and fills it with water. “I don’t really talk to her at all. I don’t think you need to tell your mother if you don’t want to.”  
  
“It was just a thought,” Remus says, “like a dream that I always knew wouldn’t actually happen. I wouldn’t even know how to kiss you.”  
  
“Bullshit,” Sirius says without looking at Remus. His voice is soft.  
  
“And sex.”  
  
Sirius shakes his head. His hair is tied into a ponytail again and Remus really, really wants to touch his neck.  
  
“I’m not even sure that I want to try it,” he says and Sirius keeps staring at the kettle, “not because of AIDS but because it sounds pretty difficult. I don’t know if I could do it.”  
  
“ _Remus._ ”  
  
“Actually, I’m pretty sure I couldn’t. And I never thought I was actually _gay_ , I just kind of wanted to…”  
  
“You just like me,” Sirius says and turns around. The water boils. Remus takes a long breath and then another, and Sirius watches him with the kind of a look on his face that hints he’s both amused and really nervous. “That’s fine, no, that’s more than fine. That’s pretty incredible. Three days ago, when I first used your shower, I just thought that you looked so cute in your wrinkled clothes and messy hair. And also that you were watching me like I was the first human being you’d seen in several days. But it doesn’t really happen that your cute neighbour who you kind of fancy wants to kiss you back.”  
  
Remus swallows.  
  
“And you want to kiss me,” Sirius says.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“I need to have coffee first,” Sirius says and smiles at him. “And I’ll make you tea. It’ll make you feel braver.”  
  
“Thank you,” he says.  
  
In five minutes they’re sitting in the sofa. His cup of tea is really a bit too hot to handle and that’s why he places it on the pile of books that wavers but doesn’t crumble. Sirius takes sips of his coffee and keeps sighing in a content tone, and Remus tries not to stare at his fingers and mouth and neck that moves every time he swallows, even though perhaps it’s a bit late for that.  
  
“I’ve never had that kind of sex,” Sirius says and stares at the bookshelf with a concentrated look.  
  
“What?” Remus asks and then bits his lip.  
  
“You know,” Sirius says, “the kind that everyone’s talking about. Once I tried but maybe we rushed it because it didn’t really work out. Usually it’s been hand jobs and, you know, having my mouth on someone’s –“  
  
“Yeah,” Remus says and flinches at how odd his voice sounds.  
  
“I’d like to try,” Sirius says and takes a sip of his coffee, “either way around. But only if you want to.”  
  
“Could we,” Remus says and leans forward even though his knees aren’t quite steady, “could we perhaps kiss now?”  
  
  
**  
  
  
Sirius sleeps in Remus’ bed. Remus sleeps on the sofa. Before that they talk for at least an hour before Remus puts a record on, and then they keep quiet until Sirius lifts his feet up onto the sofa and pushes them lightly against the inside of Remus’ thigh. It feels insane. He can hear his own breathing grow heavy but there’s absolutely nothing he can do about it, and Sirius climbs over his limbs to kiss him. He’s trying not to cling into Sirius’ shoulders like he did when Sirius first pulled him up from the sofa and placed his hand on the side of his face and leaned forward to kiss him, and he thought he couldn’t breathe and also that he couldn’t let Sirius go because perhaps he’d never come back again.  
  
When the night grows lighter behind the window, Remus is still lying on the sofa and listening to the lazy sounds of the traffic at night. The bedroom door is ajar. He told Sirius to take the bed, because it was improbable he would sleep anyway. Neither of them seemed eager to say aloud that Sirius could just go to his own flat that was literally one wall away. They brushed their teeth and kissed a bit more and Remus felt light in the head, and then Sirius climbed into his bed and he went to the sofa.  
  
Remus stands up and walks to the bedroom door as quietly as he can, and in the doorway he stops. Sirius is lying on his back, eyes closed and mouth open, hair spread on the pillow. He should let Sirius sleep. He walks closer and Sirius stirs but doesn’t open his eyes. There’s a weird-looking shadow on the wall. When Sirius starts to snore, Remus sits down in the chair beside the wall, rests his head against it and closes his eyes.  
  
In the morning he feels almost as tired as he usually does. He breathes in. Sirius has turned onto his stomach and is now hugging the pillow, Remus’ pillow that actually has a bit drool on it as well if he looks closely. The grey light of the usual October morning plays on Sirius’ bare shoulders. It’s quite possible that there will be other mornings like this one.  
  
Remus stands up and goes to make coffee. Sirius is still snoring.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me also on [tumblr](http://toyhto.tumblr.com) :)


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